Wings of the Dragon
by Aramme of Esclazhia
Summary: AU. Crossover. Ages pass, History becomes Legend, Legend fades to Myth, Myth is forgotten. Two of a forgotten age pave the way for the Dragon's Acension, for that is all they can do. Rating subject to change. Rand centric mostly. Kratos/Yuan brotherhood
1. Chapter 1: Overture

The Wings of a Dragon

Yo, this is Aramme and this is my second posting. My first story line got eaten by another thought so if you have read it, the only reason why it is still up is because the taking down of stories is a pet peeve of mine. If it sucks, it sucks. Which remindes me that I need to change my author note on it.

In any event, as with all other stories that I will post from now on, your reviews will make me update. Tell me you are intreged in any slight manner, and i will post chapter two, which is typed already. My beta says that asking for 10 statements of Yay is too high of an expectation, especially given the realm, so I'm going for five or more. Work with me people, for it is my senior year of highschool, my birthday, and I have testing starting at the end of April that won't end till the end of May. Joy. As such, you say you like, I might not have enough time to post right away.

As for this story, it is a Wheel of Time/Tales of Symphonia crossover. This works because of all of the Norse references they share. That and the Aiel history is ambigiuous enough that I can play with it and have people go "Holy shit, that could work!" I know it hit me like a cute little cherub with a sledge hammer as large as a horse. But I digress.

This first chapter is purposely vauge, so if you don't understand everything at first, don't feel bad; you weren't supposed to. The begining is kind of rushed but that is because it was origonally supposed to be two chapters and became one do to transition issues. If the characters seem a bit OoC, like Lan actually having a noticable reactions, that is partially because Rand, whose point of view this chapter is in, is more attentive and is a true empathetic and knows Lan's actual feelings, and partially because I'm not really good at making people who are wound too tight anything other than people to be ridiculed (like in another story i have started writing).

If you are interested in anything else i might write, see my home page and pm me or something. I plan to get a Dream Weaver chapter up which is essintially Galad centric except he has some of his dear Uncle Luc's tricks that let him know that oh he has a second brother, though at this point he still thinks it is attached to channeling.

That's it. Enjoy.

P.S. My Beta is Darkwingsoverwater so if you have a problem with grammer, bug her. I already edited it myself.

Added important note: "_Italics in double quotes mean the people are speaking in another language."_ Usually old tongue unless specified.

_Vaettfang- _battle field in norse. From an online dictionary.

* * *

The walk down Quarry Road was silent. Too silent. Rand frowned as he watched his side of the forest; even yesterday he could feel the presence of woodland creatures. Then the previous night they had suddenly been over come by a sudden terror and fled out of the Two Rivers, or at least as far as Rand could tell. Even the wolves retreated to the mountains and they (the al'Thor's and the other Westwooders that followed their example) had been keeping them from starving from the abnormally harsh winter.

The winter was another worry. It should have been a mild winter, Nynave, the Wisdom, agreed with him, too, the previous fall. Then it got colder and colder. Blizzards when there should have only been a light dusting. Ominous storm clouds instead of sun. The snow should have melted five weeks ago, and four weeks ago it should have been the first spring shower. When Rand and his father last went to Emond's Field three weeks earlier, Nynaeve shared with him her unease (i.e. her panic) about the weather that didn't match what she (they) felt it should have been. Somehow, Rand feels that his own observations and opinions didn't relieve her any.

"Sense anything yet, lad?" Tam al'Thor asked suddenly.

Rand shook his head. "No, nothing except us and plants. And barely any of that either."

"There has to be something," Tam insisted. "Nothing doesn't make wolves run away as suddenly as they did."

"It wasn't runaway exactly," Rand said looking over Bella, their cart mare, and, in extension, Kiki, a specially bred raven that had white feathers around its neck and down its chest as if she were wearing a scarf that Rand's teachers' used to send him messages, to look at his father. "The wolves were more surprised that what ever scared the other animal's and didn't know what to do than afraid. If anything they hated what ever it is and are just falling back to regroup or something. Definitely not afraid."

Tam grunted, his fingers dancing along the hilt of his heron marked blade in a similar manor that Rand fiddled with his bow. They were being extra careful this trip to Emond's Field; if anything came at them, they knew what they would do.

They walked in silence for a while after; only the creak of the cart, the _slish-slosh_ of the casks of cider and brandy, the _thun-thun_ of their steps upon the packed earth, and the rattling of piney needles as the too harsh wind whipped through them (and their cloaks, but Rand had decided to wear a heavier shirt so it wasn't so bad) were the only sounds in the whole woods. Rand exhaled harshly and closed his eyes, extending and focusing his 'sixth sense' to the surrounding area.

He immediately felt Bella's earthy spirit (a sign of both her earthy nature as a land oriented creature, but also her down-to-earth personality and startling wisdom for a horse), and Kiki's windy nature (common among birds and exasperated by long standing breeding and her, as Rand's teacher's termed it, airhead personality) that were probably the only normal mana (as his teachers called the energy) signatures. Tam's own signature, as a human, was much more complex. He was mostly earthy nature in an elemental sense, preferring his own feet than to anything else, as well as being mostly level headed. Tam also had a core of fire that is generally a sign of infallible love, compassion, and protectiveness that would lead to danger to anyone who provoked him to anger. Rand was ashamed to say that he felt comforted when he could feel Tam's protective anger towards anyone that might ostracize him for his (rare) abilities.

Humans also had, almost all the time, an animal association as well. Tam had a mountain eagle and mountain cat feel to him; Perrin, a boyhood friend who has never thought bad of Rand (quiet the opposite if you thought about it), was straddled between wolf and dog; and Mat, another friend, was mostly fox (not surprising) and a good bit of raven (surprising until Kiki went through a phase of stealing shiny objects) that only has gotten more pronounced over the years exposed to Rand's teachers and their… pets. Rand, himself, had been told that he was nonspecific reptile, a fact that Rand thought odd. Although Mat joked that it was because Rand was happy to lay about unless someone lit a fire under him, Rand had to agree that he was more empathetically connected towards the cold blooded creatures of the Two Rivers than other creatures. Sometimes he could swear he could understand their speech when he concentrated, but he didn't think on it. He thought it was bad enough that the winter usually led to their farm being infested with every snake and lizard in the region and that they didn't need any more trouble.

Further from the traveling farmers, Rand could feel the plants. While they did not have emotions in the exact way other creatures did, the trees felt as confused and alarmed about the unusual weather as Rand, if not more so. It seemed as though the plant life was being as repressed as the weather. Rand had a feeling that if the weather wasn't corrected soon, the plants would die from shock.

With his senses on high alert, Rand easily sensed the change in energy. Like a cloud crossing the sun, a shadow raced across his senses, solidifying a short distance behind them; following. Rand forced himself not to tense up even as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He _had_ to warn his father with out alerting their stalker.

"Do you think that if we made bird calls the birds would come out?" Rand asked as casually, and innocent, as he could.

Tam shot Rand a look of alarm, understanding what Rand was trying to do. "Sure," he said, sounding as though he was indulging a child even as Rand felt his father's emotions churn with apprehension. "I'll help, too."

Rand made a show of thinking for a moment. "Let's see," he said aloud. He made a bird call, something he had a lot of skill at even before he had demanded Tam to teach him how to use them to send messages. He gave the signal that in this situation translated into 'Enemy Behind'.

Tam's chuckle was a little strained. "You do remember that the bird call you used doesn't come till summer right" he said before he whistled 'Numbers?'.

Rand shrugged as he focused on the dark thing following them. There was a barely distinguishable signature between the two things. 'Scout On Horse' Rand finally whistled, hoping that Tam understood his meaning.

'Fire On Sight' was Tam's response. In the corner of his eye, Rand saw Tam tense and start to pivot. Rand quickly flung himself into the Void, like his father taught him, before panic or other emotions kicked in. Rand turned, drawing his knocked bow to his cheek as he did so, and released his arrow at the dark presence before he even got a good look at the rider. The hastily aimed arrow went left; the surprised black-cloaked rider immediately went right, the arrow only nicking the target instead of piercing through the shoulder. The black horse bayed in startlement before the rider kicked it into a gallop.

"You there," Tam roared, running behind the cart, sword fluidly coming to his hand smoothly. "Halt."

The horse rider galloped into the woods and quickly vanished from sight, its tainted signature vanishing with it. "It's gone!" Rand exclaimed, holding onto Bella's harness, unrestrained emotion shortening his breath.

Tam stopped short and looked at Rand. "What do you mean 'gone'?" Tam asked, his tone still harsh from adrenaline.

"Its mana signature is gone," Rand explained. He crossed his free arm in front of him. "I don't think it was human."

Tam shot Rand a worried look as he sheathed his sword. "Not human?"

Rand nodded. "It was too vile for it to be human." Tam sighed heavily and walked down the path and retrieved Rand's arrow. Tam's shoulders tensed as he inspected the arrow, unease rolling off him in waves. "Father?" Rand asked in confusion.

Rand returned to stand beside his son and showed the home-crafted arrow. Black blood hissed off the arrow head, boiling and bubbling on the arrow head as if it was acid. Rand's stomach dropped, _that_ wasn't natural. "I think," Tam said after a moment, "that we should hold off from telling people till we speak to your teachers' opinions. They're more versed in such things than I. They'll be in today?"

Rand nodded. "Yeah, they said that they would have gotten in earlier but were held up. I would have sent them back Kiki if I thought they would be later."

Tam nodded absently and clucked Bella back into motion. Eventually, the tension left them. They knew that they could harm whatever that rider was, so they eventually began to converse casually like they would any other time. Did Rand want to see Egwene, yes he did. Did Tam want Rand to get involved with whatever scheme Mat came up with, no he didn't. Did Kiki want Mistress al'Vere's honeycakes, yes she empathetically did.

When they came in sight of Emond's Field, father and son heaved a sigh of relief; no place for anyone to hide here. Tam unbuckled his sword and hid his sword in a slot of the cart they had made (for the purpose of sneaking the sword in to practice with Rand's teachers), while Rand began undoing his bow string and unfastening his quiver, both still walking.

They were stopped numerous times by various families along the road. Although Rand's abilities were initially chalked up to channeling, and therefore evil, after Rand's teachers gathered the villagers and the families that lived near by and allowed them to ask questions about his abilities, most of the people in the region looked at it as a blessing. Many fields were saved (like Bili Congar's field last spring when cut worms got into his field after his family fell ill) and maximized their output so that Emond's Field has been experiencing a time of prosperity. As such, the al'Thor farm was usually used as a gage for the year. Many people were disheartened to hear that even they were having troubles, but hopeful since Rand's teachers were expected to arrive that day or the next.

There was one person they wouldn't have stopped for if he hadn't stopped in front of them. "What are we going to do about Nynaeve, al'Thor?" Wit Congar demanded. "Your son would probably make a better Wisdom than her." Rand bristled at the insult to the woman who was like an older sister to him.

Tam sighed heavily. "The Wisdom is women's business and no of us are women, Wit."

"Well, we have to do something, al'Thor. She said we'd have a mild winter and a good harvest," Wit continued, not taking the hint to stop. "Now you ask her what she hears on the wind, she just scowls at you and stomps off."

"Maybe it is because she knows that even if she told you, Master Congar," Rand snapped, startling Wit who had been focused solely on Tam, "she knew that she would have to explain everything ten times over before you decided that you already knew everything you wanted and that she didn't have to explain anything to you. There is a reason behind the formation of the Women's Circle, and you embody it!"

"Wit Congar! Are you complaining about Women's Circle business again?" roared the voice of Daise Congar, Wit's wife, as she stormed out of her house. Wit flinched and tried to escape her ire, but failed.

"But Daise," Wit whined. "You let that boy…"

"'That boy' has more sense that half the Village Council combined," Daise interrupted. "So don't you dare complain…."

It was then that Rand and Tam made a hasty escape, before Daise realized that 'boy' was who her husband was speaking to and drag (now) both al'Thor's into a 'I know a good wife for you' speech. They were only able to sigh in relief when they reached the Winespring Inn, Bella stopping before she needed to be told. Bran al'Vere appeared as soon as their cart stopped.

"Tam," the Mayor of Emond's Field shouted as he rushed to meet them. "The Light shine on us, you came. Tell me, how's the farm?"

Tam shook his head. "Not much better than anyone else," he replied.

Bran frowned, worry creasing his brow. "Even with your boy working the field?"

Rand shook his head. "No, but my teachers should be in by today or tomorrow."

The Mayor nodded and sighed, not taking to relief as easily as the rest of the people who had asked them. Kiki, who during the conversation had hopped onto Bella's head, stared at Master al'Vere with her large, dark eyes wide and sparkling, head tilted slightly at an angle as she sent out empathetic waves that essentially said, 'I'm cute so fee me'. Bran chuckled, knowing Kiki well enough by now to know her desire without any ability to empathetically understand her. "Mistress al'Vere just finished a batch of honeycakes, little Kiki. I'm certain she'll give a good little messenger bird like yourself a few, if you ask," he said with a knowing smile.

"Maaww!' Kiki crowed happily before she launched herself into the air and dove around the inn to the kitchen window.

"I think if anyone outside Emond's Field heard us say that a raven is a good omen, they'd think us Darkfiend or shadow touched," a scratchy voice stated. "I would still prefer our missing storks, though." Cenn Buie marched over to Tam and Bran, leaning on his gnarled walking staff. "But it is good to know that someone who knows what they're doing will be coming to fix what these youngins' are incapable of."

"Pardon, Cenn," Tam said, a hint of warning in his voice. "What was the point of your statement?"

Cenn blinked, startled. "I didn't mean anything bad by it, al'Thor. Just that your boy and the Wisdom (Light help us) are too you to be handling these kind of problems. Need men with good experience in these things. I'm sure you remember the times when if Rand's concentration slipped just a little, he'd set a field afire," Cenn reasoned. "No, in a few years the youngins' will do just fine. Just not now."

Tam relaxed his feathers –figuratively speaking – unruffled about the same instant Rand tensed. Although Rand knew he wouldn't be physically harmed by the fast approaching mana signature, he couldn't guaranty the safety of his dignity.

"Rand!" came the jubilated cry of one of Rand's closest friends before the weight of a wiry body impacted him from behind. Rand staggered, unable to move as freely as he would have liked due to his friend clinging to him like a baby possum.

"Mat," Rand sighed in exasperation. "Could you get off me, please?"

Mat immediately released him and began to bounce energetically in place, eyes bright with mischief and excitement. "Was that Kiki?" he asked. "Are _they_ going to be coming soon? Ooh I can't wait! I've wanted to play a game of _Vaettfang_ for months!" Mat stilled as he finally caught sight of what was in the cart, his shoulders (and mood) dropped comically. "Aww," Mat whined childishly, "barrel totting?"

"Yes, Matrim," Tam said with a chuckle, "barrel totting. And I'm sure a good friend like yourself will be more than happy to help Rand put them in the cellar."

Mat sighed, defeated. "Yeah, yeah. The sooner this is done, the sooner I can beat Rand in stones."

"Hey!" Rand cried indignantly, peripherally aware of the three older men going into the inn, most likely to hear what Tam knew of what was happening. "You make it sound like I can't play at all."

"It isn't that you can't play," Mat said while lifting a barrel of cider. "I'm just better than anyone else in the Two Rivers. You, Perrin, and your da are the only ones who give me a challenge." While Mat wasn't one for modesty, what he said was true. People from all over the Two Rivers- even Tarren Ferry- have challenged Mat to stone only to loose. What Mat meant by 'give me a challenge' was that they were the only ones that have beaten him in recent years.

"Others have beaten you, you know," Rand said as he walked through the door way of the inn, a barrel of his own in his arms.

"Yeah, but they aren't from here," Mat grumbled, beginning to move down the hall. Rand rolled his eyes as he followed sending Scratch, the inn's yellow cat, an empathetic hello. A gold-green eye opened, fixing on Rand a moment before it closed again while sending a greeting of its own. Tam stood near the fire place, lighting a pipe of tobac while moving to stand in the forming circle of Village Council members. Rand shouldn't have been surprised to see three other members of the Village Council talking with the three that just entered with all the things there were to worry about this year.

Only Haral Luhhan, the blacksmith that Perrin was apprenticed to, and Jon Thane, the Miller, gave them any form of acknowledgement as they entered. Though, Master Luhhan gave the two young adults a frown that made Rand pause long enough for Mat to decide he needed to be kicked into motion. Grunting in pain, for anyone else not used to being beaten into the ground literally on a regular basis would probably be on the ground with a broken ankle, Rand followed.

"What was that for?" Rand demanded when they were both in the hall.

"Old Luhhan doesn't know when to let go of a joke," Mat said sulkily. "It wasn't even on him." Rand rolled his eyes as Mistress al'Vere bustled out of the kitchen carrying a tray full of her famous crusty bread, pickles, and cheese. His stomach rumbled as a reminder of the small breakfast that morning.

Mistress al'Vere gave them a motherly smile. "There is more food in the kitchen if you two are hungry. Though, you might want to hurry before Kiki eats all the honeycakes." She didn't wait for an answer as she took the food out to the men in the common room. Aside from being one of the few women in the area that didn't play match maker with the al'Thor's (a thing they were grateful for), she was the best cook in Emond's Field (proven by the quick exclamations of the food coming from the common room) and, if Rand's teachers were to be believed, many other places.

"Kiki can have all of the honeycakes if it means they get here faster," Mat said while going down the stairs. Rand followed quickly behind.

"What did you do to Master Luhhan?" Rand asked as they reached the bottom.

"Not him," said setting his barrel in the rack. I was telling Adan al'Caar, Ewin Finngar and Dag Coplin that farmers had been seeing ghost hounds in the woods. White as death, glowing eyes, breathing fire; usual things you hear in those myths. They ate it up."

"And this made Master Luhhan mad?" Rand asked, even though with Mat, the one who stet up a prank that spanned the whole Two Rivers (even Tarren Ferry), there was _always_ more.

"No," Mat said going up the stairs again after Rand set his own barrel in the rack and didn't say any more until they came down with another load each. "I put flour on two of his dogs and set them loose near Dag's place. Didn't think they'd circle the place once and think the job was done before running home and getting flour all over Mistress Luhhan's house. Not that I wanted that to happen but Mistress Luhhan left the door open. I heard she chased old Luhhan and the dogs, all three, out of the house." He rubbed the back of his head sulkily. "The dogs got Perrin and Perrin got me for it so the blacksmith should just drop it."

Rand sighed at his friend's antics but continued to work. They managed to finish putting the casks away before succumbing to the tray of food Mistress al'Vere (or Egwene for that matter) left at the top of the stairs. They ate quickly in the cellar, figuring they would avoid the ire of the council when Ewin Finngar almost fell into the cellar. His pudgy face shone with an eagerness to impart his news. "There are strangers in the village." He caught his breath and gave Mat a wry glance. "I haven't seen ghost hounds, but I hear someone floured Mistress Luhhan's dogs."

Mat rolled his eyes and muttered something about people not having an appreciation for creative expression. Rand on the other hand, forcibly calmed his emotions. "In the village?" he asked cautiously. "Did he have a black cloaked?"

Mat shot him a look that was between incredulity and fear while Ewin gave him an uncertain one. Mat obviously knew what he was talking about, but, if Ewin was an indication, not everyone else. "No, his cloak is green. Or maybe gray. I think it changes; but then sometimes you can't see him unless he moves. And hers is blue, like the sky or robin's egg, and ten times fancier than any feastday clothes I've seen. Except maybe your teachers, but I don't think you can really compare them." Ewin paused, his eyes looking distant. "But she is definitely prettier than anybody I ever saw, though. She's a highborn lady like in stories. She must be. I'm surprised Mat hadn't told you yet."

Rand looked at Mat who was covering his face with his hand, a small blush appearing on his face. "I hadn't mentioned it 'cause I was trying to forget." Mat glared at Ewin's horror struck look that was shot at him. "When the first arrived last evening, I hopped over to them and said the little phrase code that your teachers said to give to people they knew, thinking that only friends of theirs would come to the Two Rivers dressed that nicely. They looked at me like I was mad and I slinked off afterwards. There horses are beautiful, though. I think the man's is a war horse; its all black except for a brown spot on its thigh (that is easily overlooked), had a generally annoyed look, and tried to bite Hu's hand off when he tried to take him to the stable. Hers is white mare with some gray, nicer, and looks like it can keep pace with the stallion. I think he works for her, or the like."

"In service," Ewin broke in. "The stories call it being in service."

Mat ignored him. "He defers to her, in any case. If she is a lady," Mat said, emphasizing 'if', "he would most likely be apart of the House guard – army - what ever they have- with the way he is comfortable with a sword. As for her," Mat paused here, trying to contemplate seriously but his eyes were getting a look similar to Ewin's; something that made warning bells go off in the back of his head, though he didn't know why. "She is obviously well educated and well off. She hasn't given an indication of House though."

"What do they want?" Rand asked, confused as to why true strangers would come this far south. Mat just shrugged, but it apparently prompted Ewin to go on.

"Her name is Moiraine," he said. "I heard him say it. Moiraine, he called her. His name is Lan. The Wisdom may not like her but I do."

"What makes you think Nynaeve dislikes her?" Rand asked.

"She asked the Wisdom for directions this morning," Ewin said, "and called her 'child'." Rand and Mat winced remembering last year when they brought up their age differences. Ewin tripped over his tongue to explain. "The Lady Moiraine didn't know she was the Wisdom. She apologized when she found out, she did. And asked some questions about herbs-"

"Bet whatever gift we get this year Nynaeve gave her a mix for poisons and told her they were sleeping teas," Mat interrupted and jabbed Rand in the ribs. Rand and Ewin glared at him and he pouted. "You know I'm right."

"Anyways," Ewin continued sourly, "the Lady Moiraine asked the Wisdom about who is who in around Emond's Field, just as respectful as any woman in the village- more so than some. She's always asking questions, about how old people are, and how long they lived where they live, and… oh, I don't remember all. Nynaeve answered like a cat that was angry she couldn't catch the flying sparrow. She was polite of course, but not at all friendly."

Rand frowned. It was unusual for her to take offense to such a degree, but something about what Ewin said of this Lady (if she was one) asked that just rubbed him wrong. H guess he wouldn't find out why until he saw her. "Let's go out side," Rand said. "I need to work my way to Nynaeve; report to her what I know and all."

Ewin perked a little. "Is your farm doing well?" he asked.

Rand and Mat rolled their eyes and started up the stairs. "Not much better than anyone else's," Rand droned. "But my teachers are coming either today or tomorrow."

"Really?" Ewin exclaimed. He paused and glared at Mat. "This isn't a joke like the ghost hounds, is it? Or the frogs?"

Mat with held his response until after they passed the now full Village Council meeting in the common room. "No we're not joking. And the frogs are real; I've seen them. So has Rand."

Rand stayed silent when Ewin gave him an inquiring look; partially because he wanted the frogs to be left alone (he didn't want himself or anyone else to be eaten by them), and partially because he felt a small blip of darkness on his senses. Watching him. Rand turned around and looked up, his senses focusing and expanding beyond his regular range by habit. On the edge of the inn's tile roof perched a raven. Not one of his teachers' ravens, all of which have some odd amount of white feathers on them in no set patter and had mana signatures that felt like a living gust of wind; this raven was completely black with darkness wafting from it. It was not any where near the evil of the rider, but he didn't like how one of its beady eyes was staring at him.

"Carrion eater," Rand growled.

Mat snapped around and scowled at the offending bird. "You'd think that after a couple years they would grow a brain and stay away," he muttered, his eyes darting around for a stone.

Ewin radiated confusion. "Isn't that one of your teacher's birds?" he asked.

"No," Rand and Mat said in unison, loosing two stones at the foul bird. The stones flew true, but the raven stepped aside and they whistled past it. The black raven fixed them in its sight again, arrogantly, unafraid.

Mat growled; he disliked these birds more than either him or Perrin, thou he never explained what happened for him to turn so violent towards them. "If they're going to play that way," Mat muttered darkly, two fingers rising to his lips. He made a shrill whistle that could probably be heard on the other side of the village before loudly shouting, "KIKI!" The raven looked perturbed and Ewin shot Mat an odd look when he began a count down. "Five, four, three, two, one…."

"MAAAAAAAAAAAWWWW!" came an enraged caw from Kiki, sounding like a war cry like any other, startling the dark raven. Kiki dove down from the sky, having launched herself from the kitchen window on the other side of the inn, aiming straight for the dark raven. The raven leaped into the air, trying to escape the living missile. Kiki was the larger of the two birds, something the dark raven obviously took to mean that she was the slower. Bred and trained to deliver messages, Kiki could fly long and hard and easily came upon the raven; her beak pecking, talons tearing at feathers. The dark raven broke away, but was only able to get as far as the Winespring before Kiki was upon it again. Pooling wind mana around herself, Kiki body slammed the dark raven, stunning it so it dropped into the fast river. I only surfaced a few times, struggling to escape the water, but between the strong current and wet feathers, it was as good as dead.

Kiki circled around where the dark raven hit the water, emitting a sound from her throat that was reminiscent of a dog growl. "Kiki," Rand called, knowing that both she and Mat would be grumpy all day if he didn't, "Could you check for any more of them, please?" Kiki cawed an acknowledgement before wheeling around to patrol the village. Mat continued to mutter darkly under his breath. Rand sighed mentally, which became a real sigh when he saw Ewin's gobsmakced expression and prayed their guest that he sensed near them would distract them. His prayers were answered.

"I have never seen one raven attack another in such a manner before," a melodious voice said from out of sight. "But then, I have never seen a raven with white feathers before, either."

All three turned to look at the woman who had spoken, what he saw only confirmed his suspicions from what he could sense of her. She had large, dark eyes; dark hair that hung in soft ringlets under a sky-blue velvet hood; and was barely tall enough to come up to his chest. She held herself with a grace and command that combined with her sun-tan-less skin and casual wearing of clothes nicer than any country woman supported both what Mat and Ewin said she could be, and she could have been, originally. Two things about her, however, said differently. Firstly, when you looked at her face, it was impossible to tell her age; a sign, in his teachers' words, of one bound in life to Oath. And secondly, she wore the ring of the Eternal Serpent, Ananta-Sesha, a symbol that had been originally used to represent channelers as a whole, in ages long passed. Now, however, it was used only by one organization of (now) only female channelers (which the aptly named, cool feeling energy of _saidar_ that was currently radiating off her confirmed she was), Aes Sedai.

"You probably have but didn't take notice," Rand said cautiously, bowing slightly at the waist. "Are you the Lady Moiraine Ewin here told us of?"

She smiled; her personal mana thrummed with a delight similar to Mat when a prank was gong perfectly to plan, while _saidar_ expanded further into the air. It wasn't like a web of energy his teachers had warned him to mean they were purposely doing something, but it was enough to affect nearby peoples mana flow (and, as a result, processes of mostly cognitive nature) if they didn't have heightened awareness and mana disruption defenses like Rand himself did. It explained how Mat and Ewin seemed to loose their senses about her. "I am."

"I'm Ewin Finngar, my Lady," Ewin said. "I heard Lan say it, but I wasn't eavesdropping. We've never had a lady come to Emond's Field, before. Will you come to my house? My mother has apple cakes."

Rand repressed the urge to cover his head with his hand; Moiraine's emotions said that if she was a normal person, she would have been backing away, giving excuses. A roll of humor came from behind him and seemed to enter Moiraine. An instant later, the empathetic version of 'shut up' traveled back the same path. Interesting. "I am honored you feel that way, but there are things I feel need my attention. And you must not call me lady. I may have some tasks that I may need help with later, though." Ewin, unsurprisingly, gave and offer almost immediately, but she was giving Rand and Mat an expecting look; her aura of saidar pulsing slightly, demanding.

"Matrim Cauthon, Mistress Moiraine," Mat said with an incline of his head, "but call me Mat. I'm willing to help if I am able."

"Rand al'Thor, … ma'am." Rand said, not making any attempt to show the expected courteousness since she essentially stated she didn't want them to. Ewin looked scandalized, Mat expertly hid his amusement, and Moiraine raised a questioning eyebrow; but on a whole he didn't care. "I can't guaranty my availability, I have my own duties I'm expected to do, but if I am able, I shall do my best."

"Here," she said, pressing a coin into his palm and closing his hand tightly around it with both of hers. She also gave Ewin a coin, but only did the same for Mat.

Rand now knew what his teachers meant by a web. _Saidar_ solidified into threads and weaved into patterns. The first one, if Rand interpreted the energy exchange right, allowed the coin to send a tracking signal to Moiraine as long as it was near to him to be powered by the mana his body naturally released. The second one, if he read the effect it was having on Mat correctly, was simply a more solid version of what she was doing with the _saidar_ … cloud, he guess it could be called. Rand also felt it being used on him, but since his mental capabilities seemed to be working normally, Rand decided that the web must have been weak enough for his mana defense to dispel it.

"You cannot be expected to work for nothing," she said with a note of finality. "Consider this a token, and keep it with you, as proof of your promise to help me and to come to me when I ask it. It is mostly just to talk, so it should not interfere with your duties. There is a bond between us now."

"But not as strong as it could be, right Lady Moiraine?" Rand's jaw closed shut with an audible click, his face trying to simultaneously blush in mortification and pale in horror. He wasn't sure what disturbed him more: the fact that he said that at all or the fact that he almost called her Aes Sedai. One of the first things Rand was taught by his teachers concerning Aes Sedai was that if an Aes Sedai didn't introduce herself as such, _never_ call them such in public; it was the fastest way to get a Warder sword in your back. Lucky him, her Warder was already behind him, even if he was distance away. Rand could feel both emotions of Aes Sedai and Warder still as the words sunk in moments before their emotions began to churn with suspicion and curiosity; mostly suspicion for the Warder, mostly curiosity from the Aes Sedai but with a hint of annoyance from the 'Lady' bit. She fixed him with a rather fridged glare and Rand began talking again no matter how he tried to stop himself. At least he could control what he said to an extent. "That is to say, the bonds of family, friends, people, brother-hood and sister-hood would be much stronger, yes?" Rand said, practically feeling the Warder's warning bells go off and could imagine him getting ready to jump at him with a sword. He floundered with a redeeming phrase. "After all, Lady Moiraine, we have only just met," Rand laughed weakly.

Moiraine didn't comment immediately and she her response didn't diffute his claim, but she felt disappointed and annoyed. "I asked you not to call me lady, did I not?"

"Yes," Rand heard himself reply, knowing what he was going to say and still had no way of stopping himself, "but there are a lot less safe things I could call you. And I am not convinced that you are not of the upper class, and calling you 'bourgeoisie' doesn't roll off the tongue as easily as Lady, so forgive me if 'my Lady' is inaccurate of your origin."

Moiraine's signature radiated 'shut up' in a general sense which led to Mat saying, "Rand, you're rambling," in a very bland manner.

Rand fixed his friend with a very deadpan look. "I'm aware of that, I just can't stop myself so you will just have to deal with it," he sniped.

"Can't stop yourself?" Ewin asked, rather innocently even though Rand felt the Aes Sedai's piqued curiosity a second before.

Rand gave the boy a strained smile. "Something about the Lady Moiraine just makes me incapable of shutting up," he grounded out.

"What makes you convinced I am of the upper class?" Moiraine asked, interceding the conversation to avoid that topic.

"Not necessarily of, my lady," Rand said, "but from. Your… occupation might or might not give you such apparent affluence. And I know of few except those of your occupation that would think a trip to the Two Rivers would be… enlightening in any degree." He prayed that the Warder wouldn't do anything with out his Aes Sedai's command as he felt a rather volatile mix of suspicion, alarm and panic radiate from the Warder's position. The Aes Sedai felt surprised, appreciative, and curious so Rand hoped that meant she didn't want him killed.

"Occupation?" Ewin asked, completely lost. Rand made a sound in the back of his throat, fighting the compulsion to speak, knowing that if he did the word Aes Sedai would come out of his mouth.

"I am a student of history," Moiraine said succinctly.

Rand sighed in relief. "That is a good way to describe yourself."

Mat groaned "Scholar" about the same time Ewin blabbed the one can of worms Rand didn't want to open, "You mean like Master Kafei?"

Moiraine frowned in confusion. "Master Kafei?" she asked.

"Yeah," Ewin said energetically. "He's one of Rand's teachers. He is always reading a book, complaining about the ignorance of the world. He should be arriving soon."

"But if you're here to find information about Manetheren, you'll find less here than you would in the libraries of Ghealdea and Andor," Mat said, massaging his temples. "Tar Valon most likely have the most information on them, Ogier might have some obscure information the Aes Sedai don't. Most people in the Two Rivers don't even know what country we are officially apart of now, much less who we're descendent from."

"You know about Manetheren?" Moiraine asked in surprise.

Mat gave her a wry smile. "Kinda have to," he said dryly. "They are one of the few peoples Master Kafei actually likes and speaks good things about without bribes."

"Hey," Ewin said as though struck by great inspiration. "Wouldn't Master Kafei have books on Manetheren?"

Mat shrugged. "Most likely."

"I doubt he'd let her see them, though," Rand said. He counted on his fingers two points. "Possessive and doesn't liker her… school."

"School?"

Rand decided to change the direction the statement. "Height, build, coloration," he analyzed, pointedly looking her over, "Cairhien?"

The Aes Sedai blinked almost dumbly, stunned. "Yes."

Mat cringed. "That would do it." Ewin and Moiraine gave him an inquiring look; Ewin more owlish, Moiraine more calculating. "They dislike Cairhien. The Aiel War." Moiraine inclined her head in understanding before focusing on Rand once more.

"What makes you say that I am from the upper class rather than coming into it on my own? If I was or am among the upper class" she asked, bringing them back to the original subject.

Rand sighed. "While your casual wearing of fine clothes, your baring, the manner you walk, and your belief that a silver penny is small pocket change to be carelessly handed out," he said, flashing the coin she gave him before tucking it away again, "are signs of current affluence-"

"Rand," Mat interrupted, waving his own coin at him, "don't be telling her this isn't adequate payment. Don't you remember your teachers' favorite gift giving saying? '_Don't look a gift-horse in the mouth._'" He made the coin vanish once more in a huff. Moiraine gave him an appraising look for a second but then Rand continued, ignoring Mat's comment.

"-but that isn't what makes me think you were raised in," Rand said, pointedly not looking at Mat. "It's your accent."

She raised an eyebrow. "My accent?"

"Yes," Rand replied, nodding his head. "The manner in which you speak, even in an informal setting, is such that you never speak out of proper grammar rules and are always clear in your annunciation that shows that you were raised from a young age to speak to important people where such lapse in speech would be looked down upon. Servants wouldn't have been noticed enough to worry about such nuances but children would have; reflections of their parents and all. Middle to lower class persons wouldn't worry about such things except during business relations, so unless you believe this trip to be 'strictly business', your formal etiquette from a young age is so ingrained that even in the country where grammar isn't closely monitored, you still abide by your grammar lessons. Thus, upper to noble class."

Moiraine stared at him. Her large eyes were oddly blank, emotions frozen between stunned and shocked, and still staring. Rand mentally cringed as he realized that she probably was reeling from the oddness of a farm boy out Aes Sedai-ing an Aes Sedai. Mat must have come to a similar conclusion.

"Uh, Rand," Mat asked somewhat hesitantly, "Uh firstly, as fun as it is to watch you put your skills to work, it isn't very polite to psycho-analyze guest to the village; second, uh, _I think you broke her_."

Rand glared at him, a hand twitching towards his head, the coming headache made worse, especially with the Warder deciding that the Aes Sedai deserved to be laughed at through (what Rand assumed to be) their bond. "Firstly, I'm not being rude for she has yet to properly introduce herself when we ourselves have; and secondly, _she can understand what we're saying._"

Ewin glanced around at the elder boys and woman uncertainly. "How has she not properly introduced herself?"

"Yes, how?" Moiraine asked her voice void of emotions though she radiated annoyance.

"We have given you our family; you have not given us yours. That can cause people to make bad assumptions, and assumptions are bad in the first place," Rand replied easily, though he still wanted to bang his head against something hard.

"Assumptions as in…?" Moiraine asked.

"Disownment," Rand replied and instantly know he just smashed the eggshells. "Whether them from you or you from them, your unwillingness to give a family name is a way of distancing yourself from them or a sign of no longer being allowed to use it. The 'not having one' excuse is nullified with the being raised in affluence bit. Being from Cairhien it isn't an unlikely prospect."

"Why not?" Ewin asked, and Rand had to remind himself that Ewin was too young to be the norm of the village.

"The Aiel War did massive damage to the economic infrastructure of Cairhien," Rand explained. "Although Cairhien was not known for their dislike of people in Moiraine's chosen occupation, among the upper class that lost much of their wealth to the war, might have taken Moiraine's continued choice of her occupation as an insult and cut her off."

"Studied the wrong books," Mat interjected, trying to make sure Ewin was following correctly, though it was not entirely accurate.

"Among the nobility, this would not likely to have been done," Rand continued. "However, if she was born to the Damodred House or one of their close supporting Houses, she, like many of her occupation, would have likely found her fellow family members' roles in the war as repulsive and do everything in her power to disassociate herself from them; noble Houses don't just let members disown themselves, in case someone specific is needed for some sort of noble work." Judging from the hint of unease, revulsion, and annoyance Rand felt from her, it was the last reason. Great, time to deflect.

"Though there is the possibility they didn't like Master Giggle back there," Rand said, jerking his thumb in the rough direction of the Warder, the humor that he was sending the Aes Sedai through the bond abruptly ended as he began to radiate suspicion and annoyance at the comment. Mat and Ewin's heads jerked in the Warder's- Lan, he remembered- direction; Mat more controlled than Ewin.

"Master Giggle?" Moiraine asked, humor rolling off her in waves though her face didn't show a thing.

Rand shrugged uncomfortably, Lan's eyes boring into his shoulder blades, quiet steps on the hard earth as he came to join their group properly barely making it to his ears; a whisper on the wind. "When you repress laughing out right, it can cause your diaphragm to move sporadically, and thus, giggle," Rand answered. The deadpan look from the Aes Sedai made him add, "I have good hearing; made an assumption based on timing."

"I believe you said yourself that assumptions were a bad thing," the hard voice of the Warder spoke at Rand's side, Rand side stepping so they didn't brush shoulders as he passed. His Warder cloak – fancloth cloak, his teachers sometimes called it – swirled around him, causing parts of him to vanish at times as he walked to stand at his Aes Sedai's side, his hand on his sword's hilt. He turned to level a look at Rand with eyes of ice in color and emotion. "Do you believe that I would laugh at the one that I serve, farm boy?"

"If you were closer than the usual swordsman to liege-woman, then yes," Rand replied, his eyes already darting around the new person, analyzing. He grimaced uncomfortably with what he came up with. "Though from what I can assume from your, pardon the expression, breeding, I doubt that you would casually laugh at any woman you didn't feel for as sibling or close cousin. Nor that her family would object if there had been anything more between you two. Though by your ages – between forty and fifty? – one would think they'd give up about that front by now, no offense."

Both gave a slight twitch in unison, sharing a glance that only attentive eye like Rand's could catch. "Breeding, farmboy?" the Warder challenged, his eyes flaring for a moment. "What do you mean by breeding? And what would that have to do with Moiraine's family's opinion of me?"

"Breeding as in nationality," Rand replied easily. "Your formal, if gruff, way of speaking shows that you were taught proper etiquette at a young age, like Moiraine; but the gruffness, the way your sword would probably just blend in to you if you didn't draw attention to it, the fact you seem to be incapable of relaxing, and the fact that your still fit enough to be considered in your prime at your age is telling of a lifetime of fighting, military. The only region where the court and military marry each other to such an extent is in the Borderlands. To then take in your height and breadth and combine it with your dark hair but light eyes puts you as native born of the north-north-east Borderland area. Add your _hadori_ and you have a child of Malkier, purposely raised to not be assimilated into other Borderland traditions; from what I have been told, that was more common than not among your generation, if their parents didn't have a say in the matter. Something about 'poor children expected to do the Creator's job'."

Lan stilled, his eyes widened fractionally in surprise. His emotions were a cart wreck of the unease at a _farmboy_ being able to read his heritage easily when they had never left their isolated home, fused with a national pride (even if the Warder was trying to push that feeling down), mixed with a (grudgingly) good appraisal before suspicion once again made up the entirety of his being. Rand wasn't sure if the sound Lan made was more a grunt or a growl and he hoped his mouth didn't runaway to ask.

"Malkier?" Ewin asked, sounding even more lost than before. This time Rand couldn't stop himself slapping his hand against his face with a loud _crack_. The 'echo' said that Mat felt the same way, though it didn't sound as though his exasperation hit him with as much force as Rand.

"I swear to you," Mat said backing away slightly, arms wide in a peaceful jester. "We don't hang out with him often."

"Arguably, not enough, Mat," Rand said despondently, his voice muffled by the hand still covering his face. His face throbbed slightly; he hoped he didn't give himself a bruise. "Malkier was a country swallowed by the Blight nearly fifty years ago. Their warriors where highly respected, to the point that years after their fall, stories of their prowess became even more inflated. If it was known that people were of Malkieri origin, many of their neighbors would try to put them on a pedestal; dieitize them. Master Kafei said their customs that were nearly ingrained to blood, making most of them horrified of their new found status and try to eliminate their connections to Malkier because of it. The younger children that didn't have parents to keep other Boarderlanders, regardless of nationality, from impressing 'Malkieri are gods among people' into them are supposedly still adhering to Malkier custom even when most people have forgotten them. Three options, there."

Lan's face didn't change as his emotions shifted contemplatively, as though not having thought about his fellow, homeless countrymen in that way before and was feeling that what Rand was saying could be enlightening. That is, before Rand finished his last statement. "What do you mean, 'three options'?" he asked harshly, blue eyes narrowing into slits as his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, the second twitching to join it. Rand almost sighed at the near palpable suspicion the Warder radiated, but thought better of it. He was glad that Mat was explaining to Ewin what Dieitize meant.

"The three options in how you were raised to be Malkieri. You're too young to have been raised in Malkier beyond your toddling years so their customs would have been taught after the country's fall," he began to tick of points. "The civilian class of Malkier would have wanted to avoid advertising themselves for the reason I already stated, so if you had a parent raising you it would have been your mother who wanted you to become a warrior of Malkier tradition in honor of your father who would have been among the men to stay behind and fight against the flood of Trollocs. The second option is that you were an orphan, or was an orphan by the end of it, who was raised by Boarderlanders someplace to become their image of what a Malkier was and should be. The third is improbable. Either cases, your self image is messed up; lucky for most people who have to deal with you it seems to run more on the low self-esteemed side rather than an inflated ego. Your current occupation would down play any suicidal tendencies but only make the ego worse."

Lan's lips were tightened into an angry line; the perpetual suspicion being engulfed by the unease of being easily analyzed. The only reason he probably hasn't stormed off or told him to shut up yet was because the Aes Sedai seemed curious in him. Rand had yet to decide if that was a good thing or not.

"Why would this third option be improbable?" Moiraine asked. Unfortunately for Rand it seemed that Ewin and Mat were listening again, too. Rand wished Mat would just take Ewin away before he insulted the Warder's country less king. Too late for that, it seemed.

Rand made a slight show of looking around Emond's Field and the forests beyond. "Unless they're more hidden than I thought they could be, do you see an army made up of half the Borderlands here," Rand asked in resignation. Mat made a single gauffing sound before he swallowed his laughter; self preservation dictated not to show how amused you were at an insult to the king the Borderlands held in a reverence that nearly matched the Creator. That, however, did not make Rand feel as though he just damned himself to the Pit of Doom. No, it was a single emotion Rand didn't expect to feel from the Warder in such a complete way: mortification.

There had been a pause in the frenzied emotions of the Bonded pair as what Rand said sunk in, but when Mat showed his understanding of the insulting humor, realization dawned on the (poor, Rand added sympathetically) Warder. The fact his Aes Sedai was failing to completely suppress her own humor as she sent waves of comfort through their bond probably didn't help matters. The slight, barely noticeable blush that appeared across Lan's nose, Rand knew, would soon turn into an angry flush since one of the easier ways to avoid self deprivation was to turn feelings of hurt into the urge of hurting the one who hurt you. And Light if Rand couldn't tell that he was about to say something that would get the Warder's sword – the sword of Malkieri _kings_! – in his throat faster than the Aes Sedai could prevent it. And Aes Sedai can't heal death.

Rand clamped his mouth tight as he desperately prayed to every helpful Guardian Spirit his teachers ever told him about to not say anything. Moiraine used the continued pause to give a reply. "Yes, that is improbable," she said with a hum. Rand felt the predicted turn towards anger and knew the question of 'what' Ewin was about to ask would cause that to happen a lot quicker do to what Rand knew his response would be. Thankfully, today seemed to be a day where his prayers were being answered in mass.

"Maaa Maa Maaa Ma - Maaaaaaa~ww!" Kiki cried in a charge trumpet, echoing from the air as she dived, pooling wind mana around herself like when she attacked the dark raven and tackled him. Rand slammed into the ground while the painful mana disruption caused by Kiki's wind mana simultaneously caused the web – weave? – of _saidar_ the Aes Sedai made that resulted in his inability to remain silent to fall apart. Rand groaned into the hard dirt as Kiki's weight bounced from his lower back up to his shoulder. She nudged him concernedly near his ear. "Maaw?"

Rand lifted himself on an elbow with a grunt as he scratched her head. "Thank you, Kiki," he said with complete honesty. He jumped up and waved Kiki towards Mat before walking backwards towards the village proper, giving the four people a strained grin that concealed his terror. "As much as I have enjoyed speaking with you all, I fear I am late in meeting with the Wisdom. Good day, Lady Moiraine, Dai Shan Lan. Light shine on you." Rand turned on his heals and fled, knowing his clue in to Mat (who emotionally blanched when he referred to Lan that way) would be a nail in his coffin. He didn't know what to look forward to more; being killed by a pissed off Warder bonded Malkier King, or his teachers. What a fine Bel Tine this was turning out to be.


	2. Chapter 2 Bydlo

This is Aramme presenting the second instalment of Wings of a Dragon, and i would like to thank you for reading chapter 1. I didn't get as many actual reviews as I had hoped, but i realised that between gramatical errors in need of serious fixing and the fact i haven't introduced the ToS characters I should probably post chapter 2 up before I get serious in dropping.

My posting of this chapter now gives you readers a problem; Chapter 3 isn't written yet. It's planned and I know how it is going to be written, it just isnt done. That said, my schedual for updates, for those of you who haven't checked my account recently, is going to be 2-3 weeks for WoaD and once a week for DW. I can get DW up so fast because I have more, shorter chapters written that only need to be typed and edited.

Questions that might not have been asked but should probably be answered for clarification:

This is not compliant with ToS:DoaNW. The ToS characters are present in this fic because everything hits the fan just before, or during, that game. ToS main party characters will be showing up, but not in the expected way, so don't kill me at each of their appearences.

The abilities of the Two Rivers crew are more advanced than in cannon. This is becaused someones who walk into the Blight unarmed and return fine gave them access to the largest collection of knoweldge and physical arts in existance. And, no, not the white tower. The full extent of the tav'eren powers, most notably Mat, have yet to fully kick in; Mat can't randomly hit something and have something bad happpen to the bad guys yet, thats later. Nynaeve and Egwene don't know they can channel yet, though they have been taught some "tricks" so they wouldn't die trying to use it.

This story has Yuan as the main ToS character because he does the most talking out of all of them. Kratos, though, has more of a sub story that happens later than Yuan does.

This does technically fall with in the time frame layed out in the first chapters of EotW, Rand and Mat finished faster so there was more time for discussion and so forth.

Rand, Mat, Perrin: 18-20

Egwene: 16-18

Nynaeve: 24-26

Lan, Moiraine, Tam: 44-46

Finally, any one who can guess who Rus is getts a prize!

* * *

Chapter 2

Bydlo - Mussorgsky

* * *

Mat easily adjusted to Kiki's weight when the large black and white raven landed on his shoulder and absently scratched the favorite spot on her head. She seemed worried about something; the over-protective feeling parents get when their kid is getting picked on kind of worry. Mat might not be as good at empathetically connecting with animals as Rand or Perrin, but he did well enough to understand that much about the raven on his shoulder. Not that he could do it with just any animal like Rand or understand them to the point of carrying a surprisingly intelligent conversations with the animals he can understand like Perrin, but his understanding was well enough for him. Besides, ravens, like most birds, usually didn't think with definite thoughts; just the vaguest impressions of thoughts or ideas and sometimes images and names if they thought they were important. Though, the raven attempt of his name was 'Ma-traw', something as endearing as it was frustrating. The wolves and dogs, Perrin kindly informed him, decided to call him 'Maw-kon'; both in honor of what the ravens called him and the fact that his region wide prank resulted in the ravens and the foxes getting into an argument over how best to execute said prank (Perrin later informed that while he said the wolves and dogs called him 'Maw-kon' the more literal if lengthy interpretation of his moniker was 'he who instigates fighting between ravens and foxes and still gets them to listen).

Mat watched in an uneasy amusement as he watched Rand flee across the Green, dodging people and ducking under the cart of the newly arrived peddler, but thankfully only being chased by annoyed shouts of other villagers. The two strangers (the bloody Dai Shan of Malkier!) watched the back of his friend during his retreat until he was out of sight.

"Quiet fast, is he not?" Moiraine asked. Mat noted with relief that Lan (al'Lan Mandragoran, idiot, it only got drilled in his head often enough) started to relax a bit. Still could probably draw faster than his eyes could follow accurately, but not tense enough to give the impression of being ready to tear limbs off.

"Yeah," Mat agreed even though he knew the question was most likely rhetorical, "but I'm not convinced that it beats his escape from a pissed off mountain cat." At the inquiring look, Mat added, "He ended up running off a cliff. He was lucky; he jumped off the only part that had a mountain juniper growing out the side. The cat; not so lucky. Nynaeve saved her, though, so now we have a clan of angry cats in the mountains that attack men. Just so you know," Mat finished awkwardly. "Right then, I'm going to give Kiki a well earned treat," Mat said, backing towards the door of the inn. Kiki cawed happily and rubbed her head against his in gratitude.

"Ewin," Mat continued seriously, "you should go hear what the peddler has to say. Moiraine and Lan are probably very busy doing scholarly research." He leaned to whisper into Ewin's ear when it looked like he would protest. "Trust me; the talk she is going to go on about is boring. Know from experience."

Ewin nodded morosely but walked towards the growing crowd as Mat ducked into the building. Mat nodded to the Village Council members and mouthed Nynaeve at Tam's inquisitive look. Tam nodded and left it at that. Mat was surprised when he heard two sets of footsteps following behind him.

"I though you had other things to do?" Mat asked the two strangers, giving them a sidelong look.

"Your raven is a curiosity to me," Moiraine replied. "I am sure my tasks can wait a few moments for a few questions."

Mat couldn't see any harm in a couple questions. In fact getting word spread that there was a difference in Master Kafei's ravens and those _things_, it might keep people from shooting at Kiki and others of her special breeding. "Okay then," Mat said, looking over the now empty common room. "I guess we can just grab a table. Oh." Mat paused and pulled Kiki off his shoulder, holding her firmly, but gently, in his hands. "Could you hold her for a minute? She'll be happier if she has her stand and a snack."

Moiraine looked at him skeptically but nodded. She held her hands out to take her but Kiki began to make a sound deep in her throat, like a dog growl. Mat sighed and turned the monochrome raven towards Lan. There was still a slight growl, but it was no longer audible. "You've been hanging out with Kiev and his family too much," Mat murmured under his breath to the raven. If anything she felt prideful. "Sorry," Mat said at their odd looks. "As they say, 'like breeder, like breeded'. Biased against Cairhien, biased toward Malkier."

Lan gave Moiraine an almost pleading look (not that anyone else that hadn't spent prolonged periods of time with Rand's teachers would have caught it) before sighing in audibly and holding out his hands. Mat sat Kiki down in the large, callused hands of the Malkieri Dai Shan; the larger than average raven was able to sit mostly in them. Kiki shifted slightly and stared into the eyes of the new person holding her. Her head tilted to the side slightly before turning to look at Mat. "Maaw?" Kiki crowed, but Mat understood it as 'who?'

"Just a minute Kiki," Mat said. The raven fluffed her feathers in slight indignation before starting a staring contest with Lan. "I'll be right back." He quickly went into the kitchen and grabbed the hand carved perch from the windowsill. The perch had been part of their requirement for the three of them to have their own personal messenger raven rather than be at the mercy of Rand's teachers' whims of showing up or deciding to send an older, crankier one who pecked at who ever touched them that wasn't Master Kafei. Even if Kiki wasn't there much of the year, she was like Mat, Rand, and Perrin's first _own_ pet. They had been at hand for most of her raising and training.

"You feeding Kiki, deary?" Mistress al'Vere asked. The long sleeves on her dress were rolled up to her elbows as she kneaded some dough. It smelled as though she was making some chicken-vegetable stew and roasted mutton for the day's lunch and dinner.

"Yep," Mat said with a grin. "She cleaned up Emond's Field real good; no more of those nasty birds here."

Mistress al'Vere nodded with a sad and confused smile, she understood Mat's problem with the other, 'normal' ravens, as it were, but she accepted it. She grabbed an empty serving tray and plate and piled fresh honeycakes on it. She then grabbed a bowl of what looked like to honeycakes all crumbled up and placed it next to the plate. She finally grabbed an empty bowl and glass and filled both up with clean, cool water. "Can I have two more glasses of water, please?" Mat asked when he remembered his manners. "Mistress Moiraine and Master Lan are, erm, admiring Kiki."

This time, Mistress al'Vere's smile was genuinely happy. "Of course, deary." She filled two more glasses with water and handed the tray to Mat who held it expertly in one hand. "You have a good day, Matrim."

"You too, Mistress al'Vere," Mat said as he backed out of kitchen. When he looked into the common room, the sight made him sigh. Moiraine and Lan sat at a table in a corner of the room, Kiki a table away from them with her feather completely fluffed out while she growled her agitation and dislike. Scratch, the inn cat, was sitting on the table in front of Moiraine, looking back and forth between woman and bird as though unsure as who to support; the woman petting him, or the bird that it had a long standing truce with. The four occupants of the room looked up as he entered.

"Your bird doesn't seem to like me much," Moiraine said as Scratch settled down, tail flicking occasionally. Mat sighed and ostentatiously went to the table the strangers had taken, spinning the tray around so that the water glasses were in their direction. Moiraine raised an eyebrow, but Lan tensed minutely. Apparently, all traveling scholars got themselves into messes their near, elder brother figure of a swordsman had to drag them out of.

"Water," Mat replied to the unspoken question. Lan seemed to relax some; it was hard to hide things in water. Mat set the perch on the table nearer to Lan and set the small bowl of water in front of it. Kiki made a keening whine, not wanting to be near the woman. Correction, she didn't want _him_ near the woman. The only other clear things Mat got from the perturbed bird was bad, mean, and hurt. Mat sighed heavily as he waved the bowl of crumbs in front of the bird. "Come on Kiki," Mat said. "If you want your treat anytime soon, you need to be a well behaved and civilized bird and put up with the fact you'll be sitting with someone who is from the country your master dislikes. Or are you scared her?" Kiki squawked indignantly and in a flurry of feathers dropped onto her perch. Her feathers were still fluffed but she wanted it known that she wasn't scared, just cautious.

Mat set the bowl of crumbs down in front of the disgruntled bird and began to pet her comfortingly. She gradually defluffed and pecked at the crumbs some. There was a creak of wood and Mat looked up to see Lan shifting uneasily. He was leaning way from the raven more towards Moiraine, as if to shield her with his body if it was necessary, his hard blue eyes alight with suspicion.

"Sorry about her," Mat said with a sigh, not stopping his ministrations to the bird. "Master Kafei has had a strong dislike of Cairhien since the Aiel War. That is to say, the whole time we've known him and her being alive. While they may not perpetuate discrimination, they give solid evidence to support their points of view on any argument and usually win."

"While I take no offense," Moiraine said, her attention focused on Mat and Kiki. "May I ask what Master Kafei's argument is?"

"And are you sure that _thing_ is safe," Lan asked.

Mat nodded. "I've known her since she was a hatchling," Mat said. "I think I've met her parents, too. Don't remember though, it would have been almost nine years ago. And yes she is that old," Mat said before it could be asked, for it was asked every time travelers heard how old she was. "Master Kafei's people have been breeding Kiki's species of raven since before the Breaking. Possibly even before the Age of Legends, but their documentation beyond the Breaking is too incomplete for anyone to make sense of. Or at least that is what they said; they keep it in their people's library for preservation purposes so I've never seen it myself."

The two strangers turned and looked at each other, stunned into silence. A part of Mat said that he _really_ shouldn't be talking about that, but another part just said it was fine. "Anyways," Mat continued. "Kiki's kind is actually very offensive towards the, erm…"

"Dark One's spies?" Moiraine offered.

Mat nodded. "Yeah, vile examples of that family of birds, but then you already knew that and saw Kiki here in action.

"As for Master Kafei's argument; I think he actually wrote a paper on it but I doubt he published it. But the argument's title is 'Why the Aiel were completely justified in declaring war against Laman and Cairhien.' Their main arguments are that Cairhien betrayed the Aiel's gratitude of their ancestors' aid during the Breaking, and that Laman murdered children out of spite."

"Is this aid that the ancestors of Cairhien are suppossed to have given the Aiel the reason why the Aiel gave them _avendoreldera_?" Lan asked intrigued.

"Yep," Mat said with a nod. "The ancestors of Cairhien gave the Aiel aid when no one else did and in order to fulfill their obligations of _ji'e'toh_, the Aiel gave them a symbol of life. Cairhien kind of spat on their honor when they cut _avendoreldera_ down. Just don't tell an Aiel you know that though; custom dictates that non clan chiefs or Wise Ones who speak of it are killed on sight."

Lan nodded in understanding. It wouldn't have surprised Mat to learn that he had fought them during the war. "I'd assume then," Moiraine began, her brow creased in thought, "that judging from the lag in time from the Breaking to when the Aiel presented Cairhien _avendoreldera_ that they must have put a lot of time and effort to find an appropriate gift to give in return and make sure that they were giving it to the correct people." Mat nodded in agreement. "So I concede that Cairhien was in the wrong, as I have for many years. But what does Master Kafei mean by 'Laman murdered children out of spite'?"

"That gets into the complicated mess of histories that span beyond the Age of Legends," Mat replied with a grimace. "The short version is that Master Kafei's people held the type of tree _avendesora _is, the linkite tree his people call it, as a safe guard of life and the light and, to an extent, sentient. Comparatively speaking, _avendoreldera_ was still a baby as linkite trees go, so Master Kafei and Master Aurion took the cutting of _avendoreldera _like they would the murder of a small child. I think they were angry enough that they actually got blackmail material on every member of the Damodred House at the time in case the Aiel wanted completely ruin them. They didn't though, so the Damodred House still exists."

Moiraine looked distinctly ill; Lan not far behind and Mat realized something in connection to Rand's analysis. "You're from House Damodred, aren't you?" Mat asked.

Moiraine's lips flattened in distaste. "Unfortunately."

Mat nodded. "Just be sure that they know that you feel that way and you'll probably be fine." Mat thought that through again. "Maybe keep an eye out for a prank or two."

"Master Aurion would be, who," Lan asked with a frown.

Mat blinked. "Oh, I guess he's the same as you." The Malkieri king looked taken aback, and Mat corrected himself. "The same as in the one who gets to save the ones who are supposed to be intelligent from bad situations, not a king in hiding from his worshipers." Lan's face darkened and Mat grinned cheekily. "The closest term to their relationship is the Aiel term, near-brother. I think they've known each other since they were in diapers."

"Since you say he is like Lan, I assume you mean that he is proficient with a sword?" Moiraine asked.

Mat nodded. "Yeah, and damn near every other weapon in existence. He calls it a hobby; we call it his sadistic pass time." Mat rubbed phantom pains. "The amount of swords he seems to keep on himself should be illegal." Lan raised an eyebrow. "I swear he has five on him at any given time and who knows how many others stashed else where."

"I'm surprised he would openly where so many this far from the Blight," Lan commented.

Mat snorted. "Who said anything about openly?" Mat asked. "He makes them invisible." The looks the two gave him was all Mat needed to know he spoke wrong.

"Invisible?" Moiraine asked intrigued, and was that excitement? Mat wondered how the Malkieri king ended up with a woman with a death wish like her.

"Er, not how you think," Mat said. "More like how no one notices Lan here unless he wants them to. 'I don't want to be seen, so you can't'; except for Master Aurion it is 'Sword? What sword? I don't have any swords on me, sir. Honest.' We didn't know that he had different swords on him till Master Kafei taught Rand the counter to the trick a couple years back. That is probably why Rand knew you were there with out double checking."

"And Master Kafei didn't teach you this trick," Moiraine asked.

"Nah," Mat said dismissively. "He can't really teach me; not the scholarly type and all. He had hope for me when I took to the Old Tongue like any good Manetheren would have but was disappointed when that was the end to my language capabilities. That and I hate sitting still for too long."

Moiraine seemed surprise. "_Does that mean you understand what I speak, well?"_ she asked in the Old Tongue.

Mat grinned. "_I'd like to think myself bilingual,"_ Mat said cheekily.

"So I did not miss hear you earlier?"

"Nope."

"How did you meet?" Lan asked.

"The question is 'How did Rand meet them?'" Mat corrected. "The answer is he stumbled on them." The look that Mat received said that it wasn't enough of an answer. "Look," Mat said seriously, "that story goes into something personal for Rand. Not my business to talk about."

"But it led to these two, from observation of you and your friend, highly educated individuals to teaching farm boys?" Moiraine asked.

"Not on a general whole," Mat said. "You kind of have to take an aptitude test. I think. Rand, Perrin, and me wrote letters every day for a year to them and wouldn't stop bugging them till they read _all_ of them or until they allowed me and Perrin to join Rand in his lessons. Master Kafei has been teaching the Wisdom some of their people's healing remedies, but other wise I don't really know anyone else they actually teach. They like to help where they can though."

"What reason did they have for teaching Rand?" Moiraine asked. Mat wasn't sure when, but somewhere during this conversation Mat was sure his warning system of sorts started going off, but it seemed almost muffled so he ignored it.

"I think they want him to be an heir of sorts to their trading thing," Mat said with a shrug.

"Why not settle down and have children? Or asked a relative?"

"They're the last of their people," Mat said, real sympathy entering his voice that seemed to catch the strangers by surprise. "I don't know the details, they don't like to talk about it, but something happened that led to their people's destructions. Either in front of their eyes or they came back from traveling around to find everyone dead, I'm not sure. But I can say that their talking about what happened, the little that they did, was the only time I have ever seen them truly cry. Hard to move on enough to start a completely new life knowing your wife, child, lover, and every other friend or relative died and you weren't there or able to save them, especially when you were the elite. Probably why they are defensive of the Aiel as a whole; they can actually trace their peoples back enough to find where the first Aiel came in."

"They're related?" Lan asked.

Mat shrugged. "Complicated histories," he repeated. "Ask them when they come in. Other wise I can compare it like Seanchan and Mayenar; but then, you don't know anything about Seanchan and I wouldn't know how to explain it."

"So what they see in Rand is someone to pass their legacy to," Moiraine asked rhetorically. "Why him though, I wonder."

"Something about a genetic quirk Rand inherited from his mum's side," Mat said casually, once again aware of the warning bells being muffled out. "Other wise everyone in the Two Rivers could learn it, easy. It is similar enough to Master Kafei and Master Aurion's people's thing that they can make do. Though what Master Aurion can teach is much more universal, like weapons, than Master Kafei, who teaches mostly book or people specific things."

"But what they teach does allow Rand to use his… abilities to help people around Emond's Field, correct?" Moiraine persisted. Mat couldn't be sure what she said that caused his warning bells to break through the muffle in desperation, but suddenly they were blaring in Mat's head and all the _obvious_ signs and questions clicked together. And Mat knew how badly he screwed up. How badly he just _betrayed everyone_.

Mat cursed under his breath, every self-deprecating phrase in every language and manner he knew falling from his lips as he roughly shoved his chair back and stood. His body shook in rage and strain, both, as he retrieved the coin he was given and slammed in on the table. Moiraine seemed to be in shock, Lan's Warder instincts kicked in and he had a knife his hand in a flash.

"I'm sorry, _Sister_," Mat said in a harsh whisper, nearly choking on his own words. "I do not think I can help you any more. It wouldn't do well for my conscious if I let you hurt my friend just because he has a _talent_ thought lost to humans since the Breaking. I've been told of too many horror stories of what Severing – Gentling - someone who can't channel to make me feel fine with the misguided pursuits of 'protecting the common people'." Mat's hand twitched sporadically as he removed his hand from the silver (Tar Valon flame coin, stupid wool stuffed buffoon) penny and collected a growling Kiki onto his arm as he snagged the bird perch. He gave a small bow. "Aes Sedai. Gaiden."

Mat stalked out of the room and out the back door of the inn; Kiki sending waves of comfort and sympathy and 'It's not your fault' the whole while. Mat just hoped his friends (and teachers, _Light_) could forgive him eventually. He knew he wouldn't; not for a long time, if ever.

* * *

Moiraine stared at the silver coin helplessly, any weave on it falling apart as soon as the boy, young man, Mat, stepped away from it. While she was almost certain now that if anyone of the children here was the Dragon Reborn, that he was Rand al'Thor, she couldn't be sure due to how close those three boys were born.

"Did he break it?" Lan asked, the knife he had pulled when Mat had stood abruptly was already sheathed again.

Moiraine shook her head. "No, he fought it. What I put on him through the coin was not a true Compulsion, just a strong suggestion. If it had been a true compulsion, I doubt that he would have been able to fight it. The topic was just against his beliefs enough that his force of will was strong enough to give him enough distance from the weave to dispel it."

Lan grimaced. "It does not bode well, still," Lan pointed out. "That is two of the three possible children that have managed to break hold of us."

Moiraine patted her Warder's arm consolingly as she sat the cat (who seemed disturbed by the boy's outburst) on the ground. She collected the coin as she stood. "Only this one I cannot find. The other boy, Rand, I can still find; only the weave that was supposed to make him more malleable to my suggestions broke when the raven slammed into him. Not that it worked liked it should have; it felt as though it did not fit correctly. I thought it would have been fine, but we saw the results of that. I think he was trying to inform me discretely of the problem, but the raven interceded before he could find away to speak to us alone. The last, at least, seems to behave like expected."

Lan began to nod but stopped when Moiraine began to frown. "The two I can track seem to be meeting together. I would not be surprised if the third one is with them. We need to give enough of an explanation of our reason to calm their worry over us attempting to harm the al'Thor boy." Moiraine snorted disdainfully before continuing, "Like we would disable our only hope for survival."

There was a commotion at the front of the inn, an argument it sounded like. Lan quickly gathered the dishes back onto the tray and left it on the table closest to the kitchen as they left the common room to follow the Cauthon boy's retreat. They missed a man who seemed more out of place than they enter with the Village Council and traveling peddler. Seemingly late twenties to early thirties, the man was dressed in fine clothing; the pants and jacket the color of forest shadows, the undershirt a navy blue, a pair of dark brown leather boots that were upturned at the top and reached just under his knees and a matching pair of gloves, completed with a tree bark brown cloak. But the most stunning features of the man were his sharp, teal eyes and long, silken tresses pulled into a ponytail that seemed to be of a sea foam color. The afformented eyes narrowed in threat and suspicion when they landed on the Aes Sedai and her Warder, but quickly lightened up when drawn back into the discussion (that is, argument) at hand.

Not noticing anything wrong, Moiraine and Lan continued there discussion. "What kind of talent do you think the Cauthon boy, Mat, was speaking of?" Moiraine asked. "It must have something with the plants, but what? I never knew that gardening was a talent; many Sisters use the Power for gardening back in the Tower, but it was more a skill than a talent."

Lan's face pinched slightly. "He made it sound as though another group has had the ability since," he began. "But what other…" He trailed off when realization hit him like a ton of bricks, strong enough that Moiraine felt the shock. "The Ogier," Lan breathed. "The Ogier can make plants grow by Singing. It is possible that other groups could have also Treesung; the Green Man certainly could."

"But that does not explain being able to set the fields afire if he was distracted," Moiraine countered, though the Treesinging did seem like a good possibility. But if he was a Treesinger, where did that put them? The Ogier certainly could not channel, if it was because of what ever trait that led to Treesinging then the al'Thor boy couldn't be the Dragon Reborn. And it seemed like they were so close, too.

Lan grunted in concession as they spotted their quarries. They weren't as alone as Moiraine had hoped. With them there were four other people; two Moiraine recognized as the Wisdom and the innkeeper's daughter, Egwene. The other two were foreign. One looked like he could be a farmer born man dressed in plain brown wool clothing and nondescript tan cloak, but had the air of someone who usually lived in a city; merchant class then. And from the cut of the clothing, Ghealden. Odd. He had dark hair that had a slight curl to it; taller than the average man, but not by much; broad shoulders were hunched defensively, a nervous crouch. He must not have come here before, not one of the teachers then. The other man was a different story.

While not as tall as Rand, he wasn't short by much and had a similar build to the boy. His hair was a light brown of a reddish tone that made Moiraine think of some types of stones she had seen used in buildings, and hung loose down to his shoulders, looking a little shaggy while still refined. He wore a rich brown coat and pants that looked like the darker color of his hair, accented by a crimson under shirt. A deep purple cloak hung from his shoulders, the hood lined with a dark gray fur; by far the most expensive of his clothing and was well cared for judging from the way the hem had been redone with a barely noticeable mistake. He talked easily with the five Emond's fielders, arms crossed while conversing in low, rapid fire tones. Mat was standing to the side dejectedly, nodding every once in a while. Nynaeve seemed to be speaking harshly while Rand tried to pacify the growingly volatile group. Moiraine noticed, with an internal start, that the third boy, Perrin, was staring at her with his golden-brown eyes; betrayal and fierce loyalty shining through in threat.

He said something and five heads snapped in her direction, staring at her in a variety of emotions. A weary fear in the unknown man, fury in the Wisdom's. The man in the purple cloak merely turned his head a fraction before drawing the others attention back to him. Nynaeve didn't look happy but didn't seem inclined to argue.

"… everyone just better be here when I get back," Moiraine heard her say as they got into hearing range. "If not, I'm hunting you down and dragging you back. Aes Sedai or no Aes Sedai." She turned in the direction of the inn, and glared at Moiraine and Lan as she passed, a slight echo of _saidar_ coming from her as she passed; not touching but very close to it.

"Egwene," the man in the purple cloak asked in a kind, if firm, tone, "could you make sure there is a room for Rus and help him get situated?" The girl and Ghealdean looked like they were about to protest but stopped and began to follow Nynaeve; the girl shooting one last worried look at the boys as she left.

"Kiev," he began this time in a commanding tone that booked no argument, "go to your mother and have her get everyone together. What you and the rest did were very smart things to do and now we just need to plan. Send Din back here, hopefully he won't be needed to hold that position." From the shadows of the tree, a figure that had gone unnoticed before stood and slipped in between Aes Sedai and Warder and the others. Golden eyes glared at her, lips pulled up in a snarl, revealing sharp teeth; a warning like no other. Wolf.

"Now, Kiev." The wolf's ears flattened against his and gave Moiraine one last glare before sprinting off in the direction of the Westwood. It ran passed several groups of people, and while people stopped to stare after it for a moment, they went on as if it wasn't unusual. Moiraine didn't know if she should be concerned or not.

"So," the purple cloaked man began, finally turning towards the strangers, his hand resting on, Moiraine noted with a shock she also felt through her Bond, the hilt of sword that Moiraine could have sworn wasn't there before. "Why are you asking after my students, Sister of the Blue Ajah?"

Moiraine froze when she got a good look at the man's face. His skin was smooth and lightly tan with out a hint of wrinkles; the only lines were from the crinkling of his mouth and furrowed brow as he frowned at her. Part of his hair hung down over the right side of his face, partially covering his eyes. But one thing was for sure; he didn't look as though he was a day over thirty. Younger, almost; that is, if you didn't see his eyes. They were a burgundy wine color; red, brown and purple mixed perfectly, but alone meant nothing. There was an age to them. A terrible age. As though he had lived never ending _lifetimes_ of struggle like Lan's had before they met and be came Bonded; never dying, only living. Being of an organization of people that didn't age in ways like a normal people, you learned to tell age by their eyes, and Moiraine could tell that this man was far older than any Aes Sedai that she had ever met. It frightened her.

Lan, the ever faithful Warder, gripped the hilt of his own sword and moved into a stance in challenge. The man's eyes flickered briefly to Lan before turning his eyes back to Moiraine, dismissing him as a threat. A moment after, the man's eyes widened slightly (more in his pupils than anywhere else) and looked at Lan in an analyzing manner. He scowled at Moiraine.

"I have heard of Aes Sedai acquiring odd… obsessions as the years pass," the man said with equal parts disgust and contempt. "Perhaps you're wishing now to exchange your blue shawl for green in order to expand your collection of rare peoples and talents?"

Repulsion was the main thing Moiraine felt; the thought of what the man suggested was one of the things that disgusted her most about some of the Green Ajah. She did feel indignation, however, but it took her a moment to realize most of it wasn't hers.

"I chose freely to become her Warder," Lan growled.

"You say that now, but did you say that then?" the man asked fixing his eyes on Lan. They almost seem to soften, a bit. "I have seen it before, and have no doubt that I will again. There are few things I can say that are a worse thing to see; nothing comparable in recent times that aren't from older times,though. Many times they do not know a change unless you force them to see it. To remember it. A good number in recent decades from the Malkieri survivors."

"I don't think that would have happened to him, Master Aurion," Rand said hesitantly. He frowned and made a bow like in a court. "Presenting; al'Lan Mandragoran, Dai Shan Malkieri."

Master Aurion froze, eyes widened noticeably now before narrowing in concentration. A second later his hand whipped out, almost to fast to follow and definitely to fast to see directly. In his hand held a plain leather pouch, ordinary in of itself, but it held one of Lan's only treasures. Master Aurion shook the pouch gently and a golden ring slid into his palm. Taking it between his forefinger and thumb, Master Aurion seemed to squeeze it out of shape but when he let it fall back into his palm again, it was unchanged.

"It is good to know you are safe, brat," Master Aurion said with a definite hint of fondness in his voice now. "Though in the grand scheme of things, I should be happier that the ring is safe. But then, thinking like that reminds me too much of the Eternal Guardians, and I've had one or two bitch to me more than enough for a couple lifetimes and my own experiences to think so. Though it is quite funny to see a moron Aes Sedai use Compulsion on one of you kids while wearing it, if you have a rather morbid sense of humor, that is," He returned the ring to its pouch and handed it back to Lan, who snatched it immediately.

"Don't sound as though you know me," Lan said threateningly. Moiraine wished it didn't make her think that it was like a new born puppy growling at a full grown wolf.

"You are right," Master Aurion said, his eyes looking regretful, but other wise not showing expression. "I do not know you now, but I did know you; before memories were more than impressions in your mind." His mouth twitched into a smirk. "I'm not sure who ate more of my cloak, you or one of your older cousins. The joys of teething, eh?"

Both Moiraine and Lan stood shell shocked, Lan more so than Moiraine. Lan had long thought than anyone that truly knew anything about him or his family died when he had his first battle in the war he now fought with Moiraine rather than his own personal one. But if what this man said was true….

"That aside," Master Aurion said, a razor edge entering his voice again but with more the sound of a reprimanding parent than threatening a fight. "This is a long way from the Blight where, if what little I have been able to hear of you is correct, is where you wage your own 'war'. What, then, brings you to the Two Rivers?"

Warder and Aes Sedai shared a glance. The man sounded honest in his statements about Lan's family and no longer seemed to see them as a completely hostile entity (something shared by the boys standing behind him, thank the Light), which seemed to support a long standing trust between the man and, from assumption, Lan's family. If Lan could get him to cooperate…

"While this might be a different battle field than one would suspect," Lan began. "It is sometimes necessary to look in unexpected places to find ways to harm the forces of Shadow."

Master Aurion gave Lan a flat look. "Either your Aunt – not that one, an older one that was Green – gave you something of her personality through channeling or osmosis, or its White Tower business. I doubt they even remember the-" he said something, but in a tongue Moiraine couldn't recognize, "- so I doubt you're here for Manetheren." He raised an eyebrow at them. "Do you expect to find a male channeler here?" He snorted contemptuously. "I've been coming here for more than a decade, Yuan and I have only seen three boys in the region with the spark and we've blocked them before it manifested. No, not something that can be taught to Aes Sedai and can't be used on those who have already touched it. It merely makes them like one who has to go through the steps of learning to touch it instead of touching it at random. Better than Severing or killing the poor boys. And if we teach you, Rand, it will be years coming."

A sudden chill went down Moiraine's spine. To think someone could… "We were looking for something, or someone, which or who, from what we can tell from a Sister's foretelling, will cause great harm to the Shadow if it is against it, or the world's destruction if the Shadow has it."

"Foretelling," Master Aurion echoed. "When was it and what were the words exactly?"

"A great while ago," Moiraine said. "And while I was one of those present when she had it, the notebook I had written it in is back in my room at the White Tower." While all true, Moiraine didn't need to say it was branded into her memory.

Master Aurion grunted in displeasure. "What makes you think it is a person?"

"The way it was describe," Moiraine said carefully, "was in a way that makes you think it has conscious thought."

"And you've been looking, how long?" he pressed.

Moiraine's lips turned into an annoyed line. "Some months after the Aiel war ended; I met Lan near the beginning of my search. And when some agents of the Shadow -"

"Black Ajah, you mean," Master Aurion said, more to himself than to anyone else.

"- when they killed the last living people who knew me since I was young," Lan continued. "I decided that if the forces of the Dark One thought what little information given in the Foretelling was so important as for them to kill high ranking lords and ladies at court while blindly trying to find what ever it is, then it would be worth my association."

Master Aurion gave him another blank look. "Crap, you did take after her," he finally said. "Did they attack you, personally?" Lan nodded and the purple cloaked man sighed aggravated and rubbed a hand over his face. "At least Midhe's luck still is in affect for your line. Means they failed there." He mumbled some more under his breath, but it didn't sound like any language Moiraine had heard before. At least it appeared that he has taken it to mean something other than the Dragon Reborn if he thought Lan had a greater connection to their reasons for looking than just actively making sure the child survived to Tarmon Gaiden.

Before anymore could be said, the inn door banged open, revealing a wry man with long white mustaches wearing a patch work cloak, grumbling to himself as he aimlessly walked out, and in their direction. Egwene and the Ghealdean man, Rus, appeared at the door, saw where the obvious Gleeman was heading, cringed and slid back inside, closing the door. Master Aurion sighed at the actions of the two younger people. The Gleeman stopped and looked up, sharp eyes glancing around and stopping on Moiraine. A slight recognition entered his eyes and he instantly became wary. Moiraine felt a slight bit of déjà vu, though she couldn't think why.

"Don't worry about her, Master Gleeman," Master Aurion said. "She's here to help with manual labor." He flexed an arm. "Super strength and all."

The Gleeman snorted incredulously. "I don't think you know what you just said, boy."

Master Aurion just shrugged and turned to the three young men. "Gather your ready equipment, we'll provide the rest. Squad Combat Training ton-"

"YES!" Mat shouted happily throwing his arms up. A split second later, Master Aurion stumbled backwards as Mat jumped him. "Thankyouthankyouthank-"

"Mat," Master Aurion asked calmly. "Are you ten?"

Mat paused. "No?"

"Off. Now."

Mat let go, not the least bit embarrassed, and smiled brightly. Master Aurion sighed again. "In any case," he continued, "Meet where Quarry Road runs into the Westwood two hours before sunset. Moiraine, Lan," he gave the Aes Sedai and Warder a look, "your welcome to join us." Mat gave a squeak.

"Now," Master Aurion said, grabbing the gleeman by the elbow and led him away. "Can I ask a favor of you?"

The two of them soon wandered out of hearing range with there heads together. After a moment, Perrin spoke what was on most of those present minds. "Why was I suddenly over come by a sense of doom?"

* * *

Omake/outakes: expressions

* * *

As Master Aurion and the Gleeman wandered away, Perrin turned to Mat. "You do realize that you're to an age now that your actions might be taken incorrectly, right?" Perrin asked.

Mat gave Perrin a confused look. "What do you mean?"

Rand gave his friend a bland look. "It might seem that you share certain interest as most women," he answered.

At Mat's continued look of confusion, Perrin went into more depth. "People might think that you prefer the company of men over the company of women in private settings."

Mat had a horrified look plastered to his face. "I don't care if they looked like a girl if you put a wig and a dress on them, I won't get near any guy like that with a ten foot pole!" he exclaimed.

-----------

Far away in the Caemlyn Palace

-----------

"Achooo!"

Galadedrid Damodred held a handkerchief to his nose, a glare plastered on his usually emotional less face. Gawyn looked up from the book he had been reading in a near by chair, a mischievous grin taking over his face.

"Uh oh," Gawyn said. "We all know what that means." Galad's glare focused on his younger half-brother. "One of your fan boys wants to put you in a dress agai-"

Gawyn was cut off as Galad punched him in the face, the First Prince being knocked to the ground unconscious while his eye began to swell. Galad returned to the report he was writing while ignoring the way his peers and the castle servants backed away, muttering ways to torture who ever attempted to put him in a dress this time. Maybe they would finally take the hint and stop.

Some how, Galad knew they would try even after he was married to a _woman_. Not. A. Man. Ever.


End file.
